


Scared of Never Feeling

by thatpeculiarone



Series: thatpeculiarone's bingo series [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Cook Dean Winchester, Fluff, M/M, Mild Angst, Mild Sexual Content, Professor Castiel (Supernatural), Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:22:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27525295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatpeculiarone/pseuds/thatpeculiarone
Summary: Dean has been waiting to meet his soulmate, ever since the first words his soulmate would say to him appeared on his arm at eighteen years old.He's been waiting a very long time. Fifteen years to be exact.When they finally meet, it doesn't exactly go according to plan.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester, Kate Milligan/John Winchester, Michael/Adam Milligan
Series: thatpeculiarone's bingo series [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947103
Comments: 31
Kudos: 259





	Scared of Never Feeling

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to those who decide to read this fic of mine! I've been working on it for awhile and I'm really excited to share it! 
> 
> Shout out to my best friend and beta, [Ari](https://archiveofourown.org/users/willowywings/pseuds/willowywings), who is my favourite person ever and who helped me with my title. Love you! 
> 
> Title inspired by the song High Hopes by Kodaline.
> 
> PART 4 OF MY BINGO SERIES: **Soulmates**

Dean should be happy for his brother.

Well, the truth is, he _is_ happy for him. He can’t deny the warmth he feels when he sees his brother grinning at his new husband as they dance together.

_I’ll Stand By You_ by The Pretenders plays over the venue’s speakers as everyone sits quietly and watches the newlywed couple’s first dance. According to Adam, it was the song that was playing when they met two years ago, hence making it ‘their song’. As Dean observes the new couple from afar, he can see his step-mom Kate out of the corner of his eye. She’s taking pictures from her table, the flash frequently going off in bright spurts. His father, who is sitting right next to her, continuously rolls his eyes at her obsessive actions. Dean can’t help but look at them and wonder if there’ll ever come a time when they act like that for him.

He’s happy for his brother, but he’s also unbelievably jealous.

Being the eldest of three brothers, it’s safe to say that Dean expected to be the first one to get married. Better yet, he expected to be the first one to find his soulmate. He turned eighteen first, saw his mark for the first time during his morning shower, and therefore had several years to meet his soulmate before his brothers did. Sam was four years younger than he was and his half-brother Adam was another three. He’d had plenty of time to find his true match.

Plenty of time turned into fifteen years. Now here he was, at thirty-three years old, watching his youngest brother on his wedding day. He glances away from his parents and over to the other table where his brother Sam sits, his soulmate Jess right beside him. They got married three years ago but they’d met long before that, back when Sam was only eighteen. Dean remembers the sucker punch he felt when he realised that Sam had met his soulmate only a couple of months after receiving his mark. He’d met her two days into his first week at college, the two of them running into each other at a frat party. Again, Dean is happy for his brother, obviously. Jess is awesome and the two of them are amazing together. But it still doesn’t ease the bitter sting that both of his brothers are happily married to their soulmates, and he continues to be alone.

He supposes that’s why he’s found himself at the bar, scotch in his glass as he removes himself from the celebrations. The couple finish their first dance and a round of applause circulates through the entire room. He watches as Adam’s husband, Michael, crosses the room to Kate and holds out his hand. Dean can’t help but smile at how flustered but pleased his step-mom looks as she accepts his offer. Looking at Michael and all of his confident swagger, he reminds himself that his brother-in-law didn’t meet Adam until he was thirty-four, a year older than Dean is now. Adam and Michael had made quite a strange pairing, considering they were ten years apart and had lived very different lives. In fact, Dean found himself pretty hesitant to accept Michael at first. Until he realised that Michael was not only a pretty decent guy, but he shared Dean’s love of Led Zeppelin and apple pie. At that point, Dean was sold.

Michael not meeting Adam until he was thirty four should settle Dean, but it doesn’t. After several long years of pining after someone that he isn’t really sure exists, he’s all about done with hopeful wishes. He’s grown to ignore Sam’s chants of _“You’ll find them one day!”,_ and his parents pitiful gazes when he shows up alone to Christmas lunch. By this point, most people have met their soulmates. It’s rare to meet your soulmate past thirty, rarer to meet your soulmate past forty and damn near impossible to meet your soulmate from the age of fifty and beyond. Most people who haven’t met their soulmates by fifty are either just lucky if they do, or it’s most likely that they’ll never meet their soulmate in their lifetime.

A girl comes up to the bar, ordering herself a drink now that the first dance is over. She’s wearing a tight black dress with matching strappy heels and her brunette hair is tied up, exposing the soulmark that lines her back.

_Those for me?_ It reads. The first three words her soulmate spoke to her. Dean knows for a fact that she’s met her soulmate already due to the fact that it’s red. Unlike Dean’s own soulmark, written in black, a red soulmark means you and your soulmate have made contact. He also notices how her’s is openly displayed, showing every person in the room that she’s found her one. Dean’s soulmark is written along the length of his upper arm and he makes an effort to keep it hidden. He doesn’t want people knowing that he hasn’t found his soulmate -- that he is most likely destined to be alone. He also _hates_ his soulmark. He hates what it reminds him of, that he is evidently a failure of a man because he still hasn’t met his soulmate. He hates that he can’t wear short sleeve shirts without the bottom of his soulmark peeking out, or that he can’t go swimming without a shirt on. But he mostly hates it because of how utterly plain it is. Out of all the soulmarks there are, out of the coolest things his soulmate could say to him, he’s got the most basic of all phrases, _the two simplest words --_

“Hello, Dean.”

Surprise jolts Dean out of his thoughts and almost knocks him out of his seat. He bobbles for a moment on the stool before steadying himself and the glass of scotch that almost went flying onto the carpet. Cursing himself internally, he turns to face the owner of the voice who just spoke to him. The same person who had just said the two words that brand his arm.

The man stands about two feet from him, looking over at Dean with a perplexed expression. Dean is immediately drawn to the man’s eyes, a sharp, piercing blue that startles him almost as much as the words just spoken. They're so soft and inviting that Dean can’t help but draw his attention straight to them. The man’s attractive, that much Dean can tell. Sporting what Dean can only describe as sex-hair and a five o’clock shadow. Paired with his two-piece suit, Dean feels he’s in the middle of a _Fifty Shades of Grey_ novel (... not that he’s ever read one).

His mind is drawn back to the man’s words, the way he chose to greet him. He wonders maybe if this is it, if he’s finally met his _one._

His first thought is: _damn, how lucky would I be_?

Dean has attempted to picture what his soulmate would look like for years, practically since he knew what a soulmate was. It’s changed over the years, plenty of times, to the point that now his soulmate is just a shadowy figure. He used to see people on the street and wonder if they could be his soulmate, what they might look like together. He even imagined it with previous flings of his, even though he knew that there was no possible way that they were soulmates. But after some time, it got tedious dreaming about all the _what ifs._ He got tired of that sparking hope inside him, only to see it burn out almost immediately. So for the past few years, he’s given up on even attempting to imagine himself with potential soulmates.

But this man in front of him lit a fire inside him, and he can’t help but hope for the possibility that he’s finally met his match. He doesn’t want to give in to the hope, because he _has_ met people who have greeted him this way before, and none of them ended up being his soulmate. Yet this guy is attractive and Dean instantly feels drawn to him, he feels his heart yearn for the possibility.

He looks up and notices that the man is waiting expectantly for him to reply. Feeling like his mouth has gone dry, he clears his throat before saying the first thing that pops into his mind.

“How’d you know my name?” he asks.

The man blinks for a moment before smiling, “My brother pointed you out to me earlier. He wanted to make sure Gabriel and I were relatively familiar with the family that he has now married into.”

The name Gabriel sparks a memory in Dean’s mind from one of his conversations with Michael, who was telling him about his brothers. Like Dean, he had two brothers that were both younger than him. There was Gabriel, who Michael deemed his “irish twin”, as they were only born eleven months apart. Then there was his youngest brother, the one with the unusual name that Dean will never be able to forget. He grins at the man in front of him.

“That must make you Castiel,” he says. According to Michael, all three sons were named after angels, thanks to their father’s obsession with biblical history. Michael and Gabriel had fairly common names. Castiel on the other hand? Dean had never heard the name before.

“Yes, but most people just call me Cas,” Michael’s brother says, holding his hand out, “it’s a pleasure to meet you Dean.”

Dean takes the man’s hand in his, ignoring the jolt that floods through him as soon as they make contact. He’s already given up on the idea that the man in front of him is his soulmate, considering that Cas had no reaction to Dean’s words whatsoever. He supposes he’s not surprised, considering that Cas is most definitely out of his league. He’s like walking sex on legs, with a suit that looks like it cost far more than Dean’s rented one. There is no way that the universe decided to pair them as soulmates.

Swallowing down his disappointment, he nods his head to the stool next to him. “Take a seat Cas, what’s your poison?”

“I’m not particular. I’ll have whatever you are having.” he states.

“Good thing it’s an open bar.” Dean replies, flagging down the bartender to ask for two more glasses of scotch.

“So, why have you found yourself away from the festivities?” Castiel -- _Cas_ \--- asks, leaning back against the counter.

Dean shrugs, “I dunno, I mean -- I’m very happy for the two of them, _ecstatic,_ but I’m not really in a partying mood.”

“I am the same way, except I don’t think there has ever been an occasion that I _have_ enjoyed a party,” Cas laughs and Dean finds himself smiling.

“Oh yeah? Bit of a hermit, are you?”

“I’m the college professor stereotype. I spend most of my days buried in books, at my house, with my cat by my side. I didn’t always have a cat, when I first started as a professor it was just copious amounts of literature I owned. However, I felt that if I were living up to one part of the stereotype, I might as well just go the full way.”

Dean’s smile widens. “So does that mean you own a tweed jacket and a sweater vest?”

“I may own a pair… or two.” Cas replies with a sly look in his eye.

The two of them share a laugh as their glasses of scotch are placed down next to them.

They begin to share stories about themselves, as the dancing and festivities continue to happen around them. Cas tells Dean a little more about his studies as a professor of history, particularly the formation of soulmate bonds over the past few millennia. Dean reluctantly tells Cas about his job as the head cook at the local bar and grill, but surprisingly, the man seems to be intrigued rather than have any form of detest for Dean’s career.

Cas points out Gabriel after some time, the man mingling from person to person with a big goofy smile on his face. Cas says he’s a big flirt, but also one hell of a trickster, and has played enough pranks on both Michael and Cas to last a lifetime. Dean points out Sam, who has spent the first hour of the reception talking with Michael’s colleagues and dancing with Jess on the dancefloor. He points out Jess to Cas as well, the girl that stole Sam’s heart.

“So, judging by the fact that you are alone and talking to me, I take it that you don’t have a partner… or a soulmate?” Cas asks and _wow_ , straight to the punch.

“No,” Dean replies, “no I’m uh… painfully single.”

“You seem displeased by that,” Cas says as more of a statement than a question. Dean shrugs.

“Yeah well, when your two younger brothers have found their soulmates as young as they have and you’re still single in your thirties, it can make you pretty bitter.”

Cas hums as he looks out at the mass of people. Dean sneaks a glance and realizes that Cas is frowning, almost as if he’s in deep contemplation.

“I do find it quite strange, the pressure society places on us to find our soulmates.” he states, angling his body so that he can face Dean more. “Through my research, I’ve found that it’s actually fairly common for people to find their soulmates in later stages of life, and that it isn’t as uncommon as everyone makes it out to be. Gabriel hasn’t found his soulmate, I only… um… well, I haven’t exactly found mine either. And Michael didn’t find Adam until in his thirties. I just find it… _abhorrent_ that the common theory about soulmates is that if you’re unable to find yours before the day you turn 30, then you’re perceived negatively by others.”

Dean blinks a few times, processing Cas’ words. He’s spent the last few years with this idea of himself and his inability to meet his soulmate. He’s felt like a failure, an outlier in society. However, what Cas says changes his view. Suddenly, he doesn’t feel alone, he doesn’t feel _wrong_ for not having a soulmate. Cas’ words remind him that maybe he _is_ normal, that maybe he will still find them.

He smiles.

“That makes me feel better,” he says, “thanks Cas.”

“You’re welcome Dean.” Cas replies, tilting his head back so that he can down the last of his scotch. Dean feels his throat run dry.

When he’s done, he places the glass down and turns to face Dean again.

“However, I don’t think you’ll have _any_ trouble finding your soulmate.” Cas says, with a fondness in his eye that Dean just can’t pin down.

* * *

  


Eventually it’s time for the meals to be served, and considering both Castiel and Dean are the immediate family of the grooms, they are placed at the same table. As luck would have it, their name tags are positioned next to each other. However, Dean doesn’t think luck has much part in this, considering the sly looks Jess, Sam and Gabriel are giving them. Dean was also certain Adam had mentioned to him that he was sitting between Sam and Kate for the reception meal.

Dinner conversation goes well, with both families of the grooms engaging in lively, friendly discussions. The newlyweds stay in their own little bubble of bliss, barely joining in with the rest of them, but no one at the table faults them for it. Gabriel and Castiel seem to fit quite well into the Winchester family dynamic, with Gabriel enjoying the crude jokes of the Winchester men and Castiel interesting everyone with his knowledge and stories of soulmates. At one point part way through the meal, Dean watches Gabriel laughing with John and can’t help wondering how Michael, Gabriel and Castiel are feeling. He knows that prior to Michael and Adam’s meeting, the three brothers had lost their parents. Dean knows from experience that events like those bring back painful memories. He remembers Sam’s wedding and the raw feeling of pain he felt knowing their mother wasn’t there to celebrate the day with them.

Whether they’re masking their emotions or not, however, the Novak brothers certainly seem perfectly content.

The meals end shortly after and most of the table gets up to dance and mingle again, or to grab a drink from the bar. Castiel and Dean stay rooted in their seats, conversing about one random topic to another, lost in their conversation.

Dean realises that he’s never been able to talk to anyone like he can with Cas, he doesn’t even talk this way with Sam. Their conversation flows so freely, with no awkward murmurs or uncomfortable moments. Dean feels like he’s just made a new friend, a _great_ friend, and it excites him. Especially knowing that Cas lives here in Kansas City, just like him. With most of his friends and family forty minutes away in Lawrence, and Sam and Jess all the way in California, he has a limited number of trusted people that he can talk with regularly. He can’t deny the tangible chemistry that he and Cas share, and hopes this might be the start of a close friendship between the two of them.

At one point, they can’t help but watch as Michael and Adam return to the dance floor. Michael is suave with his moves, moving Adam around the dancefloor in a graceful but jovial manner. Adam is laughing, his face flushed and his eyes bright. In all honesty, Dean doesn’t think he’s ever seen his little brother this happy.

“My father taught Michael all his moves.” Cas comments. “He always loved dancing, but none of us have any idea where it came from, not even our mother. He never took formal lessons or anything. He just… loved the art.”

At the mention of their parents, Dean can’t help but feel his curiosity pique. “What happened to your parents?”

As soon as the words tumble out of his mouth, he immediately wants to take them back. An apology on his tongue, he opens his mouth to stumble his way out of an uncomfortable situation, until he sees Cas meeting his gaze. The man’s eyes are soft, with no hint of anger or irritation in them. He sends Dean the ghost of a smile.

“Don’t worry, I’m not bothered by you asking,” Cas says, “it’s not exactly private information, I’m sure your parents and Adam know the full story. It’s been a few years, I’ve had plenty of time to grieve.”

“Time _doesn’t_ heal all the pain though,” Dean replies. Growing up, he was told by many people that eventually, time would heal all wounds -- a statement he grew to hate. He’s learnt from experience that it couldn’t be further from the truth.

Cas nods.

“No, it doesn’t, but it definitely does help ease the sting. My parents died in a car accident, just short of four years ago. They were travelling to celebrate the anniversary of their meeting, when my father lost control of their vehicle. Nobody knows why or how it happened, but by the time emergency services were found, my parents had already moved on.”

“I’m sorry, Cas.”

Cas shakes his head, “Thank you for the sentiment, but I promise it’s not needed. I mourned their loss for a long time, but eventually I was able to come to peace with it. I miss them everyday, but I like to think that they’re happy wherever they are and in a way, I’m grateful that they died together. Through my studies, I’m too familiar with the research on what happens when a soulmate dies, and how the person left behind suffers. I’m glad they never had to go through that.”

Dean looks over at his father, vivid memories of his own childhood flashing before his eyes. Cas must notice the mournful expression on his face because he reaches over, placing a hand on Dean’s shoulder. Dean snaps his gaze over to Cas.

“I have a feeling you’re familiar with what I’m talking about.” Cas says.

Dean nods.

“I’m sure you knew already, but Kate isn’t my mom.” Dean explains, sneaking a glance over to his step-mom who is talking with some relatives of hers, “Sam and I have -- _had_ \-- a different mother. Her and my dad were soulmates. They met in ‘72 at the Lawrence cinema, my mom was leaving a screening of _Slaughterhouse Five,_ one of her favourite movies of all time, when she bumped into my dad so hard that she knocked him flat on his ass.”

He cracks a smile at that and notices that Cas does the same.

“They got married three years later and then they had Sam and I. Sam.. uh… Sam never got to really know her. She died when he was only six months, when a house fire tore apart our home. I was only four and I had no idea what was going on. I never got to say goodbye.”

“Dean… I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you for the sentiment, but it’s unnecessary.” Dean says, repeating Cas’ words. Cas can’t help but grin at that, rolling his eyes fondly.

“But really, it’s like you said. I’ve had time to mourn. I only have scattered memories of her, all pretty superficial. A memory of her singing me to sleep, making me soup when I was sick, making me pie for dessert, cutting the crusts off my sandwich. I can’t remember the sound of her voice and if it wasn’t for pictures, I wouldn’t remember what she looks like. There is always going to be this… this _ache_ there, but I’ve moved on.”

Cas nods in understanding. Dean looks back over at his father.

“Dad… he didn’t take it well.” Dean admits, “I practically raised Sam for a few years there while Dad went off the deep end. Bounced from job to job, continued to lose our money to alcohol and gambling, was never around to truly help us. We didn’t live in Lawrence again for five years, instead bouncing between motel room to motel room all across the country. He couldn’t cope with the fact that his soulmate was dead, so he sort of just gave up on everything.”

He feels a pressure on his shoulder and turns to see Cas has returned his hand there. It’s warm and comforting, a telltale sign that Cas understands and that he’s listening.

“He met Kate when Sam was two, but it was only a one night stand. Kate lost her own soulmate during college and she had never even thought about finding someone new and creating a family, so finding out she was pregnant with Adam scared her. She didn’t tell Dad until Adam was a year old. They co-parented long distance for a while, with Dad constantly going to Minnesota to see him. It took them almost a year to begin dating, which was when we all moved back to Lawrence. It was hard at first, ‘cause I was a very angry kid. I still have a rocky relationship with my dad. But Kate’s the best and so is Adam, and I’m pretty freaking glad that they made things work.”

“They do both seem lovely,” Cas says, glancing back over at the dancing newlyweds, “I’m really glad that Michael found Adam. I have never seen him this euphoric.”

“They’re good for each other,” Dean agrees, “although I am jealous -- I’m really glad they found each other.”

The conversation lulls into a comfortable silence for a moment as the music slowly comes to an end. Everyone claps as Adam and Michael tumble off the dance floor, hand in hand, heading towards the bar. As the next song begins to play, Dean turns back to look at Cas.

“I… I’ve never talked about that with anyone before,” he says, “so um… thank you… for listening.”

Cas smiles softly, his eyes crinkling, “It was my pleasure Dean, I appreciate that you trusted me enough to tell me. In all honesty, I rarely talk about my parents with anyone who isn’t my immediate family. However, I felt completely comfortable telling you everything. It was nice to be able to talk about that with you.”

“I must really be something special then.” Dean jokes, sending Cas a grin.

Cas returns it.

“You have no idea.”

* * *

  


A few minutes later, Cas and Dean get up to watch Michael and Adam cut the cake. Everyone sits to eat dessert and before they know it, the last hour of the event dawns on them. With his stomach full and the rest of him slightly tipsy, Dean realises that he doesn’t want the night to end without at least having one dance with Cas.

Cas is standing off to the side when Dean approaches him again, probably with a slight sway in his step. As soon as their eyes meet, Dean grins and almost immediately, he can see that Cas knows what he wants.

“I don’t dance.” He states simply, narrowing his eyes at Dean.

Dean shrugs.

“Neither do I, but there’s a first time for everything, right?” He replies, holding out his hand. Cas looks at it for a moment before sighing and placing his own hand in Dean’s. The warmth of his hand is solid in Dean’s palm, and Dean can almost feel his nerves tingle from the touch.

He leads Cas out onto the dancefloor, where a few other guests are dancing. They come together almost immediately, the way magnets are drawn to each other. He slides his arm around Cas’ waist and takes Cas’ hand with his other as they begin to sway. It takes a few awkward movements for them to get the hang of it, but it doesn’t take long for them to find their rhythm. They’re silent at first, just listening to the soft music and concentrating on where they are placing their feet but after a moment, Cas breaks the silence.

“This is nice,” he says, “thank you for inviting me to dance.”

“Anytime,” Dean replies with a wink, “but honestly, I just knew that I couldn’t let you leave tonight without getting you on the dancefloor.”

“Why?” Cas asks, tilting his head.

Dean swallows, deciding to go with the truth.

“I know we just met tonight, but it’s pretty obvious that we get along really well. I haven’t felt this sort of connection with anybody, and I really hope we can leave tonight as friends. I don’t have many friends here, especially not ones I talk to like I’ve talked to you. But if you didn’t want to stay in touch I… I guess I wanted to make sure we’d at least have this dance.”

Cas is looking at him fondly, the corner of his lips curved up.

“Dean, _of course_ I want to stay in touch. We have no doubt made a connection, and I wouldn’t want to give that up. I don’t think this friendship is ending anytime soon.”

Dean tries to ignore the relief that floods through him at Cas’ words, or the fact that his heart practically soars from that piece of information. But he can’t ignore the feeling and instead finds himself smiling giddily throughout the entire duration of their dance.

By the time the night comes to an end, Dean’s had another champagne glass and a half, only stopping when Cas cuts him off. With Cas only having two drinks the entire night, he agrees to take Dean back to his place. They watch the newlyweds stumble into their limousine and say their goodbyes to family and friends before Cas helps Dean stagger towards the car park, ready to head home and attempt to sleep off his inevitable hangover.

Truth is, while Dean is definitely buzzed from the night’s drinks, he isn’t as drunk as he’s making himself out to be. He knows, deep down, that he’s just putting on a facade so he can drape himself all over Cas. Because, while Cas might not be his soulmate, he _is_ the hottest guy he’s ever laid eyes on.

They stop just before the car park, near the rear of the building, so Cas can take a call from Gabriel. He props Dean up against the wall so that he can answer the phone, letting his brother know where he is, and for Gabriel to tell him he’s made it home safe. Dean continues to sway as he stands there, hoping that when they proceed to Cas’ car, that he’ll be able to get right up against Cas again.

When Cas ends the call, he looks over at Dean, huffing a laugh at Dean’s staggering.

“At least it seems like you enjoyed your night after all.” He says with a voice full of mirth.

Dean grins.

“All thanks to you, I haven’t had that much fun with someone in years.” Dean says, his voice slurring slightly,

“Neither have I, I don’t really have many close friends here. I can’t remember the last time I enjoyed an event such as this one.”

“I guess we make quite the pair, don’t we?”

Cas smiles. “I guess we do. Now, let me help you to the car so I can get you home.”

Dean watches as Cas leans in, ready to hook his arm around Dean to help support him over to the car. As he gets closer, Dean begins to feel hot and flustered. Cas’ face is inches from him, his soft pink lips practically all Dean has in his line of sight. The desire he’s been pushing down all night attempts to bubble to the surface, the attraction he feels too undeniable to ignore for any longer.

So he uses his night’s fill of liquid courage to lean in and plant his lips right on Cas’.

At first Cas freezes and Dean almost breaks the kiss, realising that he probably should have gotten the man’s consent first. Yet before he can lean back, Cas pulls him in closer, shoving their lips tighter together. Dean practically melts into the kiss, knowing that if Cas’ arms weren’t around his, he’d be falling to the floor right about now. Cas leans forward to brace his hands against the wall, effectively trapping Dean there while Dean moves his arms up from his sides and around Cas’ neck, holding himself against him.

At first, the kissing is tentative. Dean is still second guessing his decision, too caught up in the attraction to wonder if it’s really a good idea to lose the start of a friendship this good over a one night stand. But then, as Cas leans further into him and their groins rub together, all logical thoughts fly out the window.

The next few moments are hazy in Dean’s mind. All he can remember is the heat, the warmth, the feeling in his gut that continues to build and build and build. He’s panting hard, their kissing interspersed with soft moans of pure delight. At one point, Dean can’t help but break the kiss to lean his head back and gasp on a choked breath as Cas pulls their bodies tighter, his dick almost fully swollen from the touch. He aches in his pants, but doesn’t bother paying too much attention to it, not when Cas’ lips and tongue are _right_ there.

He grabs Cas by the tie to pull them back together and this time, Cas hooks his his hands under Dean’s thighs and lifts Dean _right the fuck up._

Okay, and if _that_ isn’t the hottest thing Dean has ever experienced.

He wraps his legs around Cas’ waist as the man pushes him against the wall, shoving his tongue into Dean’s mouth. Dean pulls his arms tighter around Cas’ neck, panting and moaning against Cas’ lips. He can feel himself writhing with a pleasure he’s never felt before. He’s had his fair share of hook-ups, flings, and the slightest snatches of a relationship. But none of those moments could possibly compare to this. There’s something about Cas that electrifies something in him.

At some point Cas loses his suit jacket, and then a moment later, so does Dean. Dean ends up fiddling with Cas’ blue tie, trying to resist the urge to rip it off when he feels Cas’ hands slowly trail upwards towards the waistband of Dean’s pants. It’s then that he truly realises what they’re doing, what’s happening and what this is inevitably going to turn to. He pushes Cas off him, the man in front of him looking dazed and confused.

“Dean, are you okay?” Cas asks, panting. His lips are swollen red, a reminder of what they just took part in. A reminder that what they just did was going to send the friendship they’d just started to form crashing and burning.

He shakes his head.

“Cas, I’m so sorry, I… this is a bad idea,” he gasps out, “we both know that if we keep this up, it’s just going to lead to awkwardness between us. This can’t lead anywhere, not when we’ve both got soulmates out there… I… I’m sorry, I just want us to be friends.”

Cas stares at him for a long time and Dean begins to wonder if he truly _did_ ruin their chances of being good friends. But after a while, Cas seems to deflate, running a hand through his messy hair which looks even worse now after their make-out session.

“Look, I have to be honest, I haven’t been entirely truthful with you tonight.”

Dean furrows his eyebrows, confused.

“What do you mean?”

Cas gulps, seeming almost frightened of what he is about to say. But he takes a deep breath and begins to loosen his tie. Dean watches, his mouth dry, as Cas rips his tie off and begins to undo the buttons on his shirt.

“I was going to wait until later to tell you this, once I got you back to your apartment,” Cas says, “I was hoping for a little more privacy, but I feel this is far too important for me not to tell you now.”

Dean stares as Cas finishes undoing all the buttons, and carefully removes a portion of his shirt. From there, Dean can see part of Cas’ bare stomach, chest and neck. However most importantly, he can see the bright, red soulmark that is stamped on Cas’ ribs.

“Oh my God… you have a soulmate?” Dean chokes out, a coldness washing through him, “you have a soulmate and you cheated on them?”

“What?” Cas gasps out, “No! Dean… read it _carefully._ ”

So Dean does, leaning in closer to get a better look at it. He doesn’t get it at first, his mind clouded by the alcohol and the flurry of emotions he’s just felt. It takes a couple of seconds, but then it all clicks into his brain and he feels the shock hit him like a freight train.

_How’d you know my name?_ Is printed neatly on Cas’ chest in red.

The first words Dean ever said to Cas.

He looks up to see Cas’ glassy eyes and he already knows what this all means. But he has to confirm it, have all the evidence to back up the thought that is replaying in Dean’s mind like a broken record.

He takes off his own tie and unbuttons his own shirt just enough to pull the top of it down, exposing his left bicep. He continues to stare at Cas, taking a deep breath, attempting to prepare himself for what he’s about to see.

He waits a second. Then two. Then three.

Then, he looks down.

And there, on his bicep, is his soulmark now a deep, bruising red.

Cas is his soulmate.

Cas is HIS soulmate.

He has a soulmate.

For the first few seconds, he feels nothing but unbelievable joy. He’s been waiting for this moment for fifteen years, the moment that he’d finally get to look into the eyes of the person he is destined to be with. He feels the crushing relief that he’s no longer alone in this world, that he’s no longer the odd one out in his family. His soulmate is right in front of him and better yet it’s Cas, the guy he’s felt an undeniable connection to all night.

However, the happiness dissipates when he realises that Cas must’ve known… he must’ve known _all night_ that they’re soulmates, and he didn’t say one word.

“You knew all night?” He asks, to which Cas nods. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Cas purses his lips for a moment, looking as if he’s trying to find the right words.

“I’ve been studying soulmates for over a decade,” he begins, “I know almost everything there is to know about soulmate bonds. I’ve read thousands of witness accounts, scientific articles, and observed countless amounts of research. From what everyone’s described, you have this longing to meet your soulmate the moment you see them. As soon as you lay eyes on them, you’re _gone._ The moment I saw you sitting alone at that bar, after Gabriel pointed you out to me, I knew we were destined. I felt it deep in my core and I knew that I needed to speak to you.”

Dean watches as Cas sighs.

“When I heard you say the words that I have spent the last fifteen years staring in the mirror at, God, I couldn’t have been happier. My feelings had been confirmed and I was almost about to tell you, let it be solidified between us. But all I could wonder was if this was really real, if our bond was truly there. I felt this awe when I saw you, but at the same time, I couldn’t help but wonder if this feeling was _pure,_ or if it was tainted by my own prior knowledge. I kept our bond silent as I wanted to get to know you first, not jump straight into things without having more knowledge about who you are. Most soulmates jump right into a relationship with each other, without exploring their deeper connection. Tonight, I’ve learnt so much about you, about the wonderful man I am truly lucky to have as my soulmate. I know now how grateful I am that we are apparently destined.”

He knows Cas’ words are meant to make him happy. He knows he should be jumping into Cas’ arms right now, dragging him home to his apartment so that he can fuck him senseless. This is his soulmate, a hot, smart, caring guy that Dean should be so lucky to have.

Yet instead, Cas’ words make him feel like he’s been dunked in a bucket full of ice cold water. He feels himself sobering up almost instantly, the realisation of what Cas did piercing him in the chest.

“So tonight, I was just an experiment?” Dean snaps, causing a startled, hurt look to form in Cas’ eyes.

“No, Dean --” Cas begins to say, but Dean doesn’t let him. He’s too mad, hurt and betrayed right now to even care.

“You didn’t tell me because you wanted to test a theory, wanted to see if our bond was _really_ real. Wanted to know whether I was actually _good enough_ to be your soulmate. Or whether you felt like the universe just happened to be lying to you.”

Cas opens his mouth to argue, but Dean is on a roll, not stopping for one moment.

“Are you sure I really am your soulmate? After all, I’m just a roadhouse chef who barely got their GED. I’m nothing compared to you, Mr Mighty Professor with a master’s degree. Why would you want me? Plus, what would have happened if you’d decided you didn’t really want me. Realised I wasn’t good enough for you? Huh? What would’ve happened then? Would you have just never told me? Have me realise later on, not knowing who or where my soulmate was. What would’ve happened then, Cas?”

“Dean, I would never --”

“No!” Dean yells, startling Cas again, “screw you, Cas! You just played with my feelings all night, trying to determine whether I was good enough for you. That’s not what a soulmate does. I… I _trusted_ you.”

“I’m so sorry,” Cas utters out, “I shouldn’t have lied to you. I didn’t mean to hurt you by my actions, I swear. Can… Can we just go to the car and head back to your apartment, or mine? Just to talk --”

“Cas, honestly, I can’t even look at you right now.” Dean snaps, causing Cas’ face to fall. Dean attempts to ignore the pain he feels seeing Cas so dejected. He bends down and picks up his tie and jacket, beginning to storm off towards the road to find a cab. He needs to get away, to deal with the betrayal and hurt he feels alone. However, he’s only gotten a couple of steps away before Cas calls out to him.

“Dean! Wait!”

_“What?”_ Dean seethes, turning around ever so slightly to look at Cas, “what more could you possibly say to me right now?”

Cas looks so heartbroken that Dean has to avert his gaze downwards. He watches as Cas puts his hand into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet. At first, Dean thinks he’s going to do something insulting like give him money for the ride home. Instead, he pulls out a business card and holds it out to Dean.

“I know you need space and time and you don’t want to look or talk to me right now… I understand. But please take my card, it has all of my contact details on it. If you find yourself wanting to talk… if you ever want to… I just want you to know where you can find me.”

Dean debates it for a moment, wondering if he should just walk away and leave Cas there holding his business card out to thin air. But he decides he’s not that much of an asshole and knows deep down, he wants to have a way to reach Cas. He doesn’t know if that’s actually _him_ though, or his stupid soul crying out for Cas’. He looks at Cas and sighs, reaching out and grabbing the business card, holding it tightly in his grip.

“Thank you,” Cas says in a breath of relief.

Dean gives him one more quick glance, before turning around and walking away for good.

* * *

  


Over the course of a couple hours, Dean shifts from a thirty-three year old man to a sulking, petulant child.

He spends the entire Sunday moping, ignoring the various calls from his brother, Jess and his father. Castiel’s business card sits on his side table, crumpled up from Dean attempting to throw it out the night before. But he found he couldn’t, after attempting so many times to put the damn thing in the trash for good. So instead it stares at him, taunting him, as he lays in bed all day mourning something he never truly had.

On Monday, he rocks up to work at 10:30 and proceeds to distract himself from the pit in his stomach. Considering it’s the lunch shift, on a Monday, it isn’t overly busy and Dean finds his mind wandering constantly. He can’t help but wonder about Cas, wonder about how he’s doing, feel the weight of his soul as it yearns for it’s missing piece. He wants to ignore it, ignore the pain of their distance, but there’s no way he can ignore the pull, and the heart wrenching suffocation he feels that he can’t be with Cas.

When his shift ends at 4:30, he heads straight home — only to find Jess and Sam on his doorstep.

“Forgot we were coming over, didn’t you?” Sam asks with a grin. Dean grimaces as he only just remembers the invitation he gave them before the ceremony.

He let’s them in, letting them get settled in the living room before he showers and changes. As soon as he’s in more comfortable clothes, he begins the process of making dinner for them. Sam and Jess try to protest, saying that they can just order take-out after Dean has had to cook all day. But considering this is his brother and sister-in-law’s last night in town, there is no way Dean is going to turn down the opportunity to make them his specialty burgers.

They don’t bring up the fact that Dean’s ignored their calls, chatting about random topics while Dean cooks and prepares the food. At first, Dean wonders if maybe he’s in the clear. However, as soon as they sit down at the table and sees the couple’s gazes pointed straight at him, he knows he’s not.

“What?” He huffs, putting down the burger he was just about to bite into. The two exchange a glance.

“Well,” Sam begins, “we just noticed that you were awfully close to Castiel at Adam’s wedding.”

“You didn’t leave his side once,” Jess chimes in.

At the mention of Cas’ name, Dean freezes up, the pit in his stomach pulling at him.

“I don’t want to talk about him.” Dean states.

They exchange another look, an identical frown forming on both of their faces.

“What happened?” Sam asks.

Dean wants to tell them to leave it alone, to just let them have a pleasant dinner without bringing up the events of Saturday night. But he hasn’t talked to anyone about his feelings and he finds the urge too overwhelming to ignore.

“Cas is my soulmate,” he whispers.

“What?” Sam almost yells out, his eyes so wide they’re almost bugging out of his eyes.

“Are you serious?” Jess asks with excitement in her voice, “why didn’t you tell us?”

Dean begins to explain the events of Saturday night, from his and Cas’ meeting, to their argument at the end of the night. He tells them about Cas omitting the truth the entire night, only admitting once Dean began to catch on. By the time he’s done, his burger is cold and his heart is heavy. He feels too emotional to eat, having to relive everything he’s felt over the past few days. Sam and Jess both seem shell-shocked, trying to process the information.

“Have you decided on what you’re going to do?” Sam ends up asking after awhile, picking up one of his cold fries and dipping it in some sauce.

“I… no not really. I can’t deny I feel something for him, he is my soulmate after all. But… he betrayed my trust, he lied to me and I don’t know how to move past that, honestly,”

“I don’t really think you’re mad about _that_ , Dean.” Jess pipes up. “I think you’re actually upset because you feel like he doesn’t want you.”

“Yeah, you’re mad he kept it from you, because you believe he saw you and decided you weren’t it for him, which we all know isn’t the case.” Sam adds on.

“Look, he says he wants me, but his actions say otherwise. If he really wanted me, he would’ve told me the truth from the beginning, not played out this little experiment to see if I’m really the one.”

“Shut up, you know that’s not what happened, you’re twisting the entire situation.” Sam says, giving Dean his infamous bitchface. It’s the one he always reserves for Dean when he feels he’s being an idiot. “Look, we can all agree that Cas should’ve told you from the beginning, he should’ve said right from the start that you were soulmates. But he didn’t do it because he wanted to see if you were good enough from him. He always wanted you, Dean. He wasn’t going to turn away his soulmate. But he wanted to get to know you more, know all about you before he jumped in. At least, that’s what I’m getting from what you’re saying.”

Dean sighs, “What if he didn’t like me on that level, you know? Who’s to say that it won’t happen? What if he finds out more of my flaws and one day decides to walk away? How can I trust him?”

“I hate to say this, but he hasn’t walked away Dean… _you_ did.” Jess says.

Dean pins her with a glare that makes Sam huff.

“She’s right, and I’m not hating on you for walking away, in fact it was the mature thing to do in that situation. You needed time to think, and I get that, but Cas never said he found you flawed. From what I’m hearing, Cas chose you from the beginning, he wanted you from the beginning, and he continued to want you despite these so-called-flaws you claim you have. Dean… Cas _chose_ you. He wants you. I’m not saying he went about it the right way, but it’s pretty clear he adores you. Jess and I saw that before we even knew you were soulmates.”

“It’s true. Dean, that guy is head over heels infatuated with you. In fact, before we found out you were soulmates, it worried us. Because we could see how much you both liked each other, and were worried about you both getting hurt. I know you feel hurt and betrayed right now, and you have every right to be, but don’t go throwing away something so beautiful over a feeling that will eventually fade.”

Dean sighs, their words spinning around in his head. He knows they’re both right, there’s no doubt that he needed to hear those words. But of course, he’s never going to admit that to them.

“Why did I tell you guys any of this?” Dean says with another sigh, despite the fact they all know he’s grateful for it.

Jess smiles, “Because we would’ve threatened you until you told us anyways. Now shut up, and eat your soggy burger.”

And so he does.

* * *

  


Sam and Jess end up leaving after a couple more hours, heading back to their hotel to get some sleep before their flight. Dean is sad to see them go, wishing they could live nearby so he could see them more often. But with them both finding success in California, Dean knows there’s no way they’ll be moving back anytime soon. And Dean knows there’s no doubt, under any circumstance, that he will be moving to the _West Coast._

Dean spends the rest of his night tossing and turning, feeling an overwhelming sense of dread and anticipation over what he knows he has to do. When he eventually gives up and gets ready for the day, he feels as if he’s walking on legs made of jello. The nerves are kicking him hard, and the thought of what Cas will say churns in his mind. He hopes for the best outcome, that they’ll be able to forget about what happened, and move forward with a relationship. But a large part of him thinks that he may have fucked up, past the point of no return. Cas won’t want him anymore, and he’ll be left all alone.

He works the lunch shift again, fairly quiet for the most part as it’s a Tuesday. He spends 90% of his shift pondering every scenario of what might happen that afternoon, every little word they could both possibly say and every single outcome that may or may not happen. He’s snapped out of his thoughts forty-five minutes before his shift ends, when a large party coming in causes an influx of orders to hit the kitchen. His mind is blank from that moment on as he cooks meal after meal, pushing plate after plate into the server’s window. He doesn’t even realise the time until his boss, the Roadhouse’s owner, Ellen comes up to him with a frown on his face.

“Dean,” she says, “it’s quarter to five. Were you ever planning on going home?”

The moment her words hit, his nerves peak to astronomical levels.

“Wait… quarter to five?” He practically squeaks out, turning to look at Ellen with wide eyes.

“Yes, Dean. As in four forty-five, as in fifteen minutes past your shift end-”

“I’ve got to go.” He rushes out, throwing his apron at the hook, his net in the trash, and slamming out the door. He forgets to do all the necessary transfers to the night chef, or his usual clock out procedures. He knows he’ll have to face Ellen tomorrow when he comes in, but right now he can’t even think about that.

He’d had a plan, a simple plan to help calm his nerves. He’d leave work at four thirty, drive to the university, have a five-minute breakdown before going inside to see Cas, ten minutes before his office hours closed.

Now? He’s running late. Cas’ offices hours end in fifteen minutes. He has fifteen minutes to make it all the way to the university a good ten or so miles from where he is, in the midst of afternoon traffic. As he’s sprinting to his car, he tries to calm his thoughts. He can always go see Cas another day, or try to reach him on the phone. But no rational thought can clear the frenzy in his mind.

He has to see Cas today. He needs to resolve this _today._

He peels out of the car park, driving like a maniac through side roads to make it through the university. He’s sure that he may have passed a speed camera or two on his way, but he doesn’t even care. The fine is worth it.

He rocks up at the university at four fifty-five. He parks in the one-hour-free zone and almost pancakes a poor freshman. They’re kind enough to give him directions to Cas’ building, a fair distance from where he’s parked. He shouts them a quick thanks as he begins to run again, racing through the heavily populated campus so he can get to the building in time. As he does, he catches glimpses of the students and faculty faces. They seem shocked and concerned, with some looking at him like he’s an absolute moron.

_God, do I feel like a moron._ He can’t help but think. He can only imagine how he looks.

A couple of minutes later, he sees the building up ahead. The large science and history office building looming ahead of him. He doesn’t slow down however, only glancing at his watch to see that it’s one minute until five o’clock. _Crap._

He bursts through the door in a frenzy, dripping with sweat and fatigue. He takes a moment to catch his breath, before looking up. His gaze immediately lands on the building’s receptionist packing up her bag for the day. She looks at him with the most withering, disapproving stare.

“Office hours are closed.” she states.

Dean wants to argue and say that _technically,_ they don’t close for another minute. But he knows it won’t win him any favours and he has the feeling that he shouldn’t get on the bad side of this woman.

“I know I’m sorry, I just… I uh… I really need to see Professor Novak, it’s urgent.” He gasps out through panting breaths.

She stares at him for a moment and Dean worries that she won’t let him up. However, she must see the look of desperation in his eyes because after awhile, she sighs.

_“Fine,”_ she says, pushing the button that opens the automatic doors to the offices, “but if Professor Novak is upset that you’re there so late, don’t put the blame on me.”

Relief sags through him and he grins, “I won’t, I promise. Thank you.”

However, before she can reply, he’s already racing up the stairs.

It takes him a few minutes to navigate to Cas’ office as the building is full of long winding hallways and an abundance of offices. Mostly everyone has left for the day, all the offices he’s passed empty and dark. He wonders if Cas will still be there, or if he’s already on his own journey home. Dean worries that after all of this, maybe he’s missed his chance.

He follows the signs that point to the different offices, following the corridors down to the area for soulmate and bond history studies. From there, he reads each of the names on the doors, slowly creeping down the hall. It only takes a couple of doors for him to spot it, the familiar last name embroidered into the gold name plate that’s stuck to the door on his left.

PROFESSOR C. NOVAK

He takes a deep breath in.

_This is it._

Light shines through the blurred window and he can hear the faint sound of paper rustling, so Dean knows that Cas is still there. His heart pounds rapidly in his chest, he can feel his veins and arteries pulsing. He feels the sweat glistening on his forehead, cold and clammy from his nerves and manic running.

_God, I’m a mess._

With shaky hands, he lifts his arm up to the door, giving it three short raps. He hears the paper shuffling stop.

_Fuck._

“My office hours are closed, please come back tomorrow.” Cas’ deep, rumbling voice says. Dean has no idea if it’s because his memories were influenced by the alcohol, but the voice sounds different than usual. It sounds broken, _tired._

Oh, how Dean can relate.

He wants to say something, but he feels his throat close up, dry and parched. He swallows and reaches forward again, this time towards the door knob. He grabs it and gently attempts to turn it, pleased when he realises it’s unlocked. He takes another deep breath, as if it can will away his anxiety, and slowly turns it all the way.

He pushes the door open softly, opening it up only slightly so that he can peek in. He’s worried the moment Cas sees him, he’ll be pissed and immediately ask Dean to leave. The small, rational part of his brain tries to tell him that there’s _no way_ that will happen. Cas wants him, he told him so on Saturday night.

Yet, Dean’s fears cloud him from processing those thoughts, stopping him from _believing_ them. He’s been unwanted for so long in his life, that it’s hard to imagine Cas truly wants to be with him. Especially after Dean left him.

He watches as Cas looks up from his paperwork, a scowl on his face for whoever has intruded on his space. However, as soon as his eyes land on Dean, his face goes completely blank.

_“Dean?”_ Cas gasps out, his voice sounding as frail as Dean currently feels.

Dean gives him a shaky smile and takes a hesitant step inside, worried that at any moment, Cas will snap and want him gone.

However, Cas doesn’t move a muscle. He just watches, uncertainty piercing his gaze.

Dean walks fully into the room, shutting the door behind him and locking it. He then turns and faces Cas again, fully taking the man in. Immediately, he notices the deep circles under Cas’ eyes and the way his hair looks flatter and more disheveled than normal.

_Fuck,_ he can’t help think, _**I** did this. _

They’re both silent for a moment, a tension lingering between them, before they both open their mouths to speak.

“I’m sorry,” they stammer out at the same time, before clamping their mouths shut again when they realise they’ve both spoken.

Cas looks at Dean with wide eyes.

“Why are you apologising?” he asks with the familiar tilt of his head, “Dean, you have nothing to apologise for.”

Dean raises his eyebrows. “What? Are you kidding me Cas? I have plenty to be sorry for.”

Cas just frowns at him.

Dean huffs, “Cas, I’m sorry for not hearing you out, properly. I… Look, I’ve been waiting for you for fifteen years and during that time, I lost a lot of hope that I’d ever find the person meant for me. I got scared, worried that… that maybe I wasn’t good enough to have a soulmate. And when you told me you were my soulmate, I panicked. I lashed out as I usually do, and instead of talking it out, I left you.”

Dean sighs.

“I’m sorry Cas, I should’ve at least given you a way to reach me. I shouldn’t have just abandoned you, and I feel awful.”

Cas’ eyes are watery. He blinks a few times before shaking his head.

“Dean, _I’m_ sorry for not telling you,” he murmurs, “that is all my fault. I betrayed your trust, before we’d even truly gotten to know each other. I don’t blame you for walking away… _yes,_ I was upset to see you go and _yes,_ these last few days have been hard, but none of that is your fault. I should have told you from the beginning, instead of making you judge your worth.”

Dean wants to say more, wants to sit here and blame himself further. Yet, he knows Cas will just do the same and they’ll end up in a repetitive cycle. The nerves seep into his chest again, the one question he’s wanted to ask burning on the tip of his tongue. He clenches his fists and doesn’t break his gaze with Cas.

“Do you… do you still want me?” Dean asks, so softly he can barely hear himself. He tries to keep his voice steady but the question comes out with a slight shake. Cas may be sitting here apologising, but the past two days would have given him plenty of time to reconsider. He may have realised that Dean wasn’t worth all of the issues he brought.

Castiel’s expression softens, so much that it practically crumbles, “Dean. _Of course,_ I still want you. I wanted you the moment I laid eyes on you, I wanted you at dinner, I wanted you when we danced, I wanted you when you walked away. Dean… I’m scared, too. For someone who’s studied soulmates almost their entire adult life, I shouldn’t be as nervous as I am. But the moment I saw you and you showed me how kind, selfless and loving you were, I felt inadequate. You’re just so caring and loved, your whole family thinks the world of you. I was scared that when you found out we were soulmates, you would be unhappy to be bonded with me. And… and I suppose that wasn’t too far from the truth.”

Dean feels his heart practically _shatter_ at Cas’ words.

“Cas…” he gulps. His soulmate looks so heartbroken, practically curled up in his big office chair, worried that Dean has rejected him. Worried that _he_ isn’t good enough for Dean. Just like how Dean felt like he wasn’t good enough for Cas. The irony of the situation doesn’t escape him, how the two of them maybe _are_ truly meant to be.

Before he can even think it through, he crosses the room straight towards Cas. He lifts up the arms of the chair, so that he can hook his legs over either side. He straddles Cas, lifting his hands up and holding the man’s head in them. His blue eyes are wide and frozen on Dean, but behind the worry and anticipation, Dean catches a gleam he’s only seen a few times in himself. Desire, yearning and _hope._

“I want you, I always _did_ want you. Before I knew we were soulmates, I had hoped, as soon as you said hello. I was sad when I thought that you weren’t mine, and the whole night, I couldn’t help but feel how connected we were. I’d never met anyone like you man, we just clicked. I’ve never clicked like that with anyone, _ever._ I’m sorry for walking away, and looking back, I wouldn’t make that same mistake again. I was scared and angry, but not once, not even for a second, did I not _want_ you. If you’ll have me, I’m yours… okay?”

Cas is silent for a moment, barely having blinked during the entire time Dean spoke. They stare at each other quietly, Dean waiting for Cas to make his choice. However, he doesn’t have to wait long before Cas grips his hands tightly around Dean’s jacket. Then, before he can even blink, Cas is pulling him into a searing kiss.

He feels himself melt, like ice-cream on a summer’s day. The tension eases out of him quickly as he practically collapses against Cas’ solid form. Being back together again, in each other’s arms, Dean can finally place the feeling he’s felt this entire time. The warmth, the pull, the desire that radiates through him every time he’s near Cas. It’s happiness, it’s the feeling of belonging -- it’s the feeling of being _home._

Dean hasn’t felt that in a very long time.

The kiss doesn’t last long, they break apart quickly after. Their foreheads rest together, as Cas lifts his hand up and rakes it through Dean’s hair. Dean, although he’d never admit it aloud, practically preens at the touch. Cas then brings his hand down, cupping Dean’s jaw in his palm.

“I’m yours, as well,” Cas says with the smallest of smiles.

Dean grins, quickly leaning forward to plant a kiss on Cas’ forehead before he gets up.

“Now I don’t know about you, but I’m starving, wanna go get a bite to eat?”

Cas fixes his tie slightly before grabbing his coat off the back of his chair, “I’m fine with that. But may I propose an alternative?”

Dean shrugs, “Sure, go ahead.”

He waits for Cas to pack away his marking and belongings, following him out as he turns off the lights and locks the door behind him. As they walk down the corridor, Cas turns to look at him.

“I was thinking pizza, beer and whatever film is playing on cable. I don’t know about you, but I didn’t get a lot of sleep the past few nights. A night in with you sounds heavenly to me.”

Dean laughs and nods, “I knew I liked you, Cas.”

Cas grins, a bright gummy smile, before he reaches down and links their hands together. Their hands mould together, warm and steady against each other. He leads Dean down the stairs and out the front door, onto campus. Then it’s Dean’s turn to lead him through the car park towards the Impala, since Cas only catches public transport to and from the university.

“I’ll have to leave early in the morning,” Cas says as they walk, “I would love to spend tomorrow with you, but I have a lecture at nine.”

“I’ll drive you,” Dean says, “plus, we can hang out tomorrow night, or another time. No need to rush Cas, we’ve only got forever.”

They reach the Impala and Dean, ever the gentleman, holds open the passenger door for Cas. He closes it behind him and hops into the driver’s seat, shoving the keys in the ignition. As the car begins to rumble, Cas lets out a soft chuckle.

“What?” Dean asks, turning to face him before he begins to drive.

Cas meets his gaze, his eyes full of mirth.

“Forever.” he says, “I could get used to that.”

* * *

  


**One Year Later**

As soon as Dean stepped into the room, he’d felt a wave of déjà vu hit him. Almost everything looked the same, from the tables, to the flowers, to every little decoration. He supposes that shouldn’t be a surprise, considering it was the exact same venue that Michael and Adam had their wedding in. They only had minor differences, different napkins, a different cake. Everything was mostly kept the same because neither Dean nor Cas were fussy when it came to the planning.

But now as they dance together, on the same floor they danced over a year ago, the déjà vu hits him like a truck. _High Hopes_ by Kodaline, the same song they danced to at Adam and Michael’s wedding, plays in the background. Dean hadn’t known what song it was at the time, but ended up recognising months later at Christmas when Sam had his playlist on. It isn’t the most romantic of songs, and Dean knows they probably could’ve picked more lovey-dovey crap, or even an actual _slow_ song, but he doesn’t care. This is _their_ song and the sentimentality means everything.

“To think that about a year ago, I was sitting at that bar alone,” Dean whispers to Cas. It feels awkward dancing in front of their family and friends, when each and every one of them has their eyes trained on the two of them. However, he makes an effort to just stare straight at Cas, trying to block out the weight of all the gazes on him.

“And I was sitting watching Michael and Adam dance here, waiting for the perfect opportunity to come over and speak to you.” Cas replies. “Who would’ve thought we’d end up here?”

“I don’t think I ever thought I’d end up here.” Dean says honestly. Before he met Cas, he never thought he’d be able to do this. Be up in front of his family with a ring around his finger, with his arms around his husband and soulmate. He glances to the side quickly, seeing his family all sitting at the same table smiling at them. Kate is snapping photos religiously, with his dad making the exact same face he did during Adam’s first dance. Sam and Jess are smiling, Jess’ arms wrapped tightly around her swollen belly, Dean’s little niece two months away from being born. Adam and Michael sit behind them, huge grins on their face, obviously elated seeing both their brothers up there together. Even Gabe is smiling like a maniac, looking the happiest Dean’s ever seen him. And considering Gabe is never _not_ happy, it’s something truly spectacular.

He faces Cas again, gripping him tighter as he hears their song begin to end.

“Thank you for making me the luckiest guy ever. Thank you for never giving up on me.”

Cas smiles softly, “You’ve made me equally as lucky. I love you.”

Dean grins. “I love you too, and I’m looking forward to spending the rest of our lives together as old men.”

“Not just the rest of our lives,” Cas says, “I do believe we promised each other forever.”

The song comes to an end, and they slowly break apart while the rest of their families clap and cheer. Dean reaches out to grip Cas’ hand in his, leading him off the dance floor.

“Forever,” he remarks, “I could get used to that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/thatpeculiarone) and [Tumblr](https://imthatpeculiarone.tumblr.com)!
> 
> And, come find us and other Destiel fans on the [ProfoundBond discord! (18+)](https://discord.gg/profoundbond)


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